


"My tent has a tear in it"    "Sure it does"

by Skylily



Series: Camping Trip [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Camping AU, Cute, Fluff, M/M, Miller x Monty, Minty100, Monty x Miller, The 100 - Freeform, minty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 10:53:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4345748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylily/pseuds/Skylily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>camping au "we're with our friends camping and my tent has a huge tear in it and it's probably going to rain and can i share yours?" </p>
<p>and "we're hiking and we get stuck in a downpour and Christ it is freezing and why didn't we pack raincoats, and oh no,  we need to share a sleeping bag now to regain some body warmth" </p>
<p>** Prompts combined **</p>
            </blockquote>





	"My tent has a tear in it"    "Sure it does"

**Author's Note:**

> I LOVE THIS? (SORRY NOT SORRY)

After going swimming and destroying Clarke and Bellamy at Chicken, Monty was exhausted. He wanted to scream for joy when the group decided to finally head back to camp; after all, it looked like it was going to rain. 

Wells Jaha trailed beside him, looking as exhausted as Monty felt. The guy had probably played enough volleyball with Harper and Monroe to last a lifetime. Wells nudged Monty slightly as they walked. They'd never been close, but he knew Wells was really cool once you got to know him.

"What's up?" 

Wells looked around. "I didn't want to say anything while everyone was around but, Clarke told me how you can get really freaked out by thunderstorms due to . . . uh, yeah, anyway, I just wanted to say it's okay if you want to share a tent tonight. I'd be completely okay with that, alright?" 

Monty felt his cheeks and neck and about every other part of his body warm in embarrassment. "Clarke told you that?" 

"Yeah, she didn't mean to an--" he started, but Monty raised a hand to silence him.

"No, no, it's okay. I trust you. Just . . . don't tell anyone, yeah? And thanks for the offer, but I think I'll be okay." Monty plastered a small smile onto his lips. He knew Wells was sincere in his offer, regardless if he realized just how embarrassing it came off.

"Alright, Mont." Wells nodded as they reached the tents. "Have a good night."

"You, too." 

Wishing everyone a good night, Monty slipped into his own tent and quickly stripped his wet clothes off; changing into his batman PJ pants and another plain grey t-shirt, he placed his wet trunks outside on a log to dry (as long as it didn't rain, of course). He took note that the others had done the same. Regardless if it rained or not, no one wanted their wet clothes inside their tent.

Back inside, Monty had started to set up his sleeping bag and pillow when he heard the first pitter patter of rain drops. Laying down, Monty curled up in his sleeping bag with a book, a small lap lighting his tent well. Reading always calmed his nerves when the memories threatened to break him, but even that didn't help for long. 

After a good 10 minutes of silence, Monty heard cursing from the tent beside his. Recognizing Miller's voice, Monty smiled. 

What could possibly be bothering Nathan now? He wondered. Everyone was asleep and he had a tent by himself. 

When a yawn escaped his lips, Monty decided not to stay awake to find out. Placing his book down and turning his battery-powered lamp off, Monty closed his eyes.

Outside, thunder echoed loudly and that was all it took for the flashbacks to shatter Monty's peaceful sleep. Tossing and turning, the vivid images of the car crash that had killed Monty's parent's the year before racked through his brain. He'd been in the crash himself, but his life hadn't been taken like his parents'. Sometimes he wished it had. 

It had happened on a stormy night like this one, and now every time it stormed, Monty had horrible flashbacks of the accident. The counselor he'd talked to for a little while had told him he had PTSD. As more thunder crackled across the sky, Monty clutched at his head, willing the thoughts to go away. He wanted to cry out, but the fact that his friends were right outside his fort of plastic tarp kept his cries muffled into his pillow. 

A shuffling of footsteps outside his tent caused Monty to still. Soon, a zipping noise followed and in popped a head. In the dark, Monty couldn't make out who it was.

"Monty?" The voice whispered. Monty hurriedly turned on the lamp that still sat beside him. When the lamp illuminated the tent, Monty let out a breath of relief. 

"Jesus, Nathan. You scared the shit out of me." 

Miller stared at the boy with intense eyes. "Are you okay?" 

Monty looked away and wiped at his face as nonchalantly as he could manage. "What do you need, Nate?" 

"I, uh, my tent. It has a tear at the top and the rain is flooding my tent . . ." Annoyance flashed across his face at the reminder. 

The conversation from earlier this morning flashed through Monty's mind and he cracked a grin. "Oh? Sure it does."

"Montyyy," Miller whined. "Can I please share a tent with you?"

"I knew you were jealous of my tent," Monty smirked, already feeling better. He sat up taller. 

Miller rolled his eyes. "Yes, definitely jealous of this piece of plastic that is your tent. Now can I sleep in here or do I need to go bother Wells?"

The fact that Miller was willingly wanting to sleep in the presence of Monty made him blush suddenly. "No, no. It's okay. Do you have your sleeping bag?" 

"Uh. . . Right. About that," Miller entered the tent fully now and rubbed at his neck. Monty's eyes trailed over his body and came to the realization that Miller had nothing in his hands. "Everything in my tent is absurdly soaked, including myself."

"Nathan!" Monty exclaimed. "You're going to get sick. Why didn't you come over earlier? Jesus."

"I didn't want to bother anyone! I thought I could patch it myself but it wasn't working and well . . . I'm here now, okay." 

Monty dragged his hands down his face. "Okay but you're changing. You're not sleeping in my tent soaking wet. I don't know if I'll have anything that, uh, will fit you though. Besides maybe stretchy pajama pants." 

"That works, I guess. Thanks." Miller crossed the tent and stood beside Monty as he dug through his bag to find another set of PJ's. These had the Superman logo spattered all over them. Monty handed them to the boy and turned away, waiting for Miller to dress.

A laugh filled the quiet tent. "Are you really looking away, Monty? That's adorable."

"Shut up," Monty mumbled, blushing. "And hurry up, I'm tired."

"I'm dressed." 

Monty huffed and turned. 'Dressed' was an understatement. Miller had the pajama pants on and they fit him way too well (they'd always been too long and baggy on Monty and that was how he liked it) but his chest remained bare. Monty quickly adverted his gaze. 

"How do you suppose we make sleeping arrangements now that you have nothing to use?" Monty's voice came across annoyed, but his rapidly beating heart was saying something entirely different.

When no response came, Monty looked up. Miller met his gaze and shrugged. "You're going to freeze your ass off."

Miller shrugged again, "Probably."

Monty squeezed his eyes shut at the idea that bounced around in his head. It was really the only way. Opening his eyes, he refused to meet Miller's eyes. "We're going to have to share a sleeping bag."

"Okay." 

Monty's eyes flicked up to Miller's. "Okay?"

"Yeah?" Miller asked, eyebrows arching. He moved closer to Monty's position and Monty had to force himself to keep calm.

"You're completely okay with that?"

"Yes . . . should I not be?" 

"No, no reason to not be. It's big enough to fit the both of us, anyway. It'll be snug but it'll work." Monty worked hard to keep his voice natural.

"Alright. Which side should I, uh, be on?" Miller asked. 

Monty looked everywhere but at him and unzipped the bag so Miller could get in the sleeping bag easier. "Er, there is fine."

"Alright." Miller said again. Entering the bag, Miller's legs brushed Monty's. Monty screamed on the inside, his heart thudding against his chest so loud he was positive Miller could hear it. 

"Are you okay?" 

Monty snapped out of his thoughts to find big brown eyes staring at him, only inches away. "Fine," he nodded quickly.

"Look, if you're not okay with this, Mont--"

"No," Monty cut him off. "Sorry, it's just, uh, different. It's okay." Monty forced himself to relax and mold to Miller's body as normally as he could. 

"Do you mind if, I, uh, place my arm over you? Letting it just hang here is kind of painful," Miller grinned across at him. 

"Sure," he struggled to keep his voice even. Miller's arm draped over him and brought the boy ever so closer.

"I'm going to turn the light off; that okay?" 

Miller nodded, and Monty turned the nob of the lamp, drenching the two boys in darkness. 

After a moment of silence, Miller whispered. "Monty?"

"Yes?" 

"Your heart is beating really fast." Even in the dark, Monty could see Miller's smirk.

"Shut up," he whined. 

The arm that rested on Monty's side shifted and a hand found its way in the dark to Monty's face. A finger traced down Monty's nose, down his cheek and lastly hovered at the edge of his lips. "Do I make you nervous, Monty?"

Thunder crackled above them, but the haunting memories didn't torture Monty now. 

"Yes." Monty answered quietly, his voice shaking. He couldn't prevent it anymore.

"You're so cute, Mont," Miller chuckled, removing his hand. 

"What?" He shifted, and Miller's arm draped back over his waist lightly. 

"I said you're cute."

Miller said it so easily; so confidently. Didn't he know the effect it had on Monty? "I know what you said, but I mean . . . what?" 

"You're so clueless, you know?" Again, Miller's hand moved and came to rest back on Monty's face. His thumb rubbed across his cheek lightly. 

"Am not," he huffed, closing his eyes at Miller's touch. If anyone asked, he definitely did not lean into Miller's warm palms. 

"Are too," Miller mocked teasingly. In a quiet voice, he continued. "Can I kiss you, Monty?" 

Monty's head jerked towards the general direction of Miller's voice, eyes flying open. Slowly, he nodded.

Miller's hand cupped Monty's face and directed him easily to his lips in the dark. Monty tilted his head naturally at the movements, but even so his nose bumped Miller's, stopping his movements.

Chuckling quietly, Miller's thumb dragged across Monty's lips. "You're smiling." 

"Yes, are you?"

"Beaming," Miller said, and Monty believed him. Monty could hear it in his voice. This only made Monty smile wider.

Without another word, Miller brought Monty to his lips. This kiss was slow, and soft, and gentle and Monty loved it. Miller pulled away all too quickly. 

Dragging his fingers away from Monty's face, Miller repositioned his hand back at Monty's waist and pulled the boy closer to his chest. Monty ducked his head beneath Miller's and wrapped his own arm around Miller, smiling into his chest. 

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," Miller whispered into Monty's ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down Monty's spine. He couldn't help the grin that stretched across his lips at the words. 

"Goodnight, Monty," Miller whispered.

And just like that, Monty closed his eyes and fell asleep without another reminder of the vivid car crash that had haunted him only minutes beforehand. 

"Goodnight, Nate."


End file.
